Im Berion: Neth
by Trickssi
Summary: Chapter 8 is up. A King, distressed. An Evil that is rising to control half of his country. A grudge begins between Mirkwood and Lothlorien. Please read & REVIEW.
1. Embarrassment

Hello, Trickssi here. Just wanted to say beforehand that Angthoron = Mein, and that Galion actually *is* Thranduil's butler. I don't own Thrandy, Lego, Galion, Lothlórien, Mirkwood, or any of Tolkien's characters or locations, however; I do own Malthôn (even though he's a rude pig), Elanor, Mallos and Authan. I especially own Niphredil, and I co-own Angthoron with CelticWolf. That's it for disclaimers.  
  
As for the Sindarin spoken, it was found at that Sindarin Dictionary place from the downloaded dictionary and IT IS CORRECT. If you really wanna know what it says, I'm sure you'll find it somehow. I'm not that nice, and if you don't know the Sindarin, I WILL NOT translate for you (ya lazy fanfic reader!) no matter how much you beg and plead and cry. So either pretend you know it for the sake of the story or don't complain to me about it. Thanks.  
  
~Trickssi  
  
~~~~~~  
  
A wave of silence fell over the usually boisterous crowd of Mirkwood elves who had been waiting at the entrance of the palace. All were waiting to hear the sound of silver bells ringing from the throats of the elves of Lothlórien in their travels to the dark woodland realm. All. except for two naughty little princes.  
  
"MEIN! GIVE IT BACK!"  
  
"NEVER! IT WAS MINE FIRST!"  
  
"O dear Elbereth. What shall I ever do with those two?" Thranduil asked himself, referring to the boys' voices from the corridors. Legolas and Angthoron had always argued over the slightest things. He just supposed that was what brothers ought to have done. He often left them alone to solve their differences, but mostly it only lead to more trouble. He just figured that this time he would wait until Celeborn arrived, and the fun would begin.  
  
"Nuh UHHH! Ada gave it to me and I want it!" Legolas yelled.  
  
"Well you can't have it!" Angthoron retorted. Both boys could be seen chasing each other the right side of the palace. Angthoron, the older prince, was carrying a small dagger in its sheath and running significantly faster than his younger brother.  
  
'Or maybe not,' thought Thranduil.  
  
"Give it back!" Legolas shouted again. He began to catch up to him, and reached out his arm to grab the dagger. Suddenly, Angthoron halted, causing the small Legolas to fall back onto the ground after running straight into him. When he finally allowed himself to get back up, he was met by the stern face of his father instead of the taunting gestures of his brother.  
  
"Young elf, I expect this behavior to stop this instant or I shall punish you severely," he sighed, ". again." Legolas pouted and lowered his head. "And as for you, Angthoron," he continued, "you will give that dagger back to your brother or you shall be punished." Mein paused for a moment; then surrendered the dagger to his father, defeated. He knew it was Legolas's dagger; he had his own sword already. Of course, he just wanted to get him in trouble so he couldn't play after the banquets.  
  
"Nín Aran, the elves of Lothlórien have arrived," announced Galion the butler, bowing before the King.  
  
"Ah, that is good," Thranduil replied. He gave one last scornful look towards his sons before returning to his place beside his butler.  
  
As the head elf of the company approached Thranduil, they bowed accordingly to each other.  
  
Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "You are not the Lord Celeborn, nor the Lady Galadriel. Who enters Mirkwood in their stead, if I may ask?"  
  
"Torthon, nín Aran. You needn't know my real name," replied he.  
  
"However, I do ask for it; and as I am King, I would see that it was found out by any means necessary were you not an ally." He stood taller than 'Torthon', and in his superiority, seemed to cause him to shrink down.  
  
With some thought and stuttering, the elf said, "Malthôn, it is."  
  
"Then Malthôn, I welcome your Company of the Golden Wood here to the realm of my people," Thranduil added. He broke into sudden joyous laughter. "Mae govannen, mae govannen!" Malthôn became less frightened of the King, and with a nervous smile lead his company into the halls.  
  
As they were passing by the doorway, Thranduil greeted every few elves. They were cloaked in grey, and a golden light seemed to surround them; as would be expected of elves who had had the leave of the Lord and Lady. Their brilliant horses were taken to the stables (though small they were) and were envied by many of the Mirkwood residents. Among their company also were some few children: Elanor, a child of high nobility, often called as a daughter of Galadriel given the amount of time they spent together (she was favored because of her golden hair and "manners", as some would call them); Mallos and Authan, daughter and son of Malthôn himself; and there was a child in particular who happened to stow away for the journey. Her name was Niphredil, and though her name implied beauty, she seemed awkward; for her eyes were a sharp hazel among the usual grey of other elves, and her hair was darker than night itself; and though dark hair was ordinary for elves, hers was somewhat tangled. This was probably due to her liking for traveling and stowing away with others to escape Lothlórien. Her body also was thin and scrawny. If anything, she was everything but the expected for the meaning of her name; for it was not her real name. However, she stayed as a fly on the wall in the company despite all of these factors.  
  
When at last the company had passed into the bright hallways of the King, Legolas and Angthoron were told to stay outside until it was certain that they would cause no trouble to the guests, and would be watched by Galion.  
  
Which was probably the biggest mistake he made for the next few thousand years.  
  
Galion had taken a small bottle of the King's vintage wine from his jacket pocket and was out in less than a minute. Such were the ways of Galion: he was afraid of commitment and loved to drink. Hence, leaving the boys unattended by the door.  
  
"Hey Legolas," said Mein as he opened the door a crack. "I bet you I could go in there and steal Ada's crown without him noticing."  
  
Legolas was intrigued by the thought. "I bet you couldn't," he stated.  
  
"I bet you couldn't."  
  
Legolas had to defend his honor, the glory of all of his few 700 years on Arda; he had to take up the challenge. "I bet I could!"  
  
"O yes? You really believe you wouldn't get caught?" Angthoron asked. Legolas nodded. "I'd like to see you try." Angthoron had finally begun to succeed in his plot to ruin his brother's young life. He didn't even suspect that it was a terrible plan to get him in trouble!  
  
Legolas crept in through the doorway and past the entrance hall where the various things of the visitors had been set down or hung. He somehow had to make it through the main hall and into the feast hall without anyone knowing he was there. Aha! Suddenly by some stroke of what he was sure was pure genius, Legolas thought up an idea. Mein had once told him that if you put your hands over your eyes, nobody could see you. Of course! Why hadn't he thought of that himself?  
  
Quickly, Legolas opened the door and flung his hands over his bright blue eyes. He sprinted in the direction he thought the dining hall was in- but instead hit the wall beside it. As he fell, he took his hands off his eyes to catch his stumble.  
  
'O no!' he thought to himself. 'I'm going to be caught by the guards!'  
  
However, the guards' usually stern looks had been turned into suppressed laughter from the child's antics. Legolas looked up at them and scrambled to his feet before covering his eyes again and running into the hall. It was far too close a call for his comfort.  
  
"I welcome you all to Mirkwood, my visitors from Lothlórien. I hope that you enjoy your stay here, and make a prosperous return to your own kingdom! Let us feast and forget the woes of traveling," Thranduil bellowed. Legolas threw himself against the wall and began to scoot towards the inside of the feast hall. He ran alongside the walls (hands over his eyes, of course) until he heard the voice of his father grow louder. Legolas stopped and peeked out through his opened fingers to spot his location. Aha! Closer than he thought. If he could just manage to run over behind that chair.  
  
"Nín Aran, do look at what your son is doing," whispered Malthôn, who sat beside Thranduil. He gestured behind his chair with his wine glass.  
  
"O dear Elbereth, did I not tell those two to wait outside until the feasting was nearly over?" complained the King. "I'll make sure that Galion gets less pay this week. or less wine." Thranduil looked over his shoulder to see Legolas still peering out between his hands and standing meekly behind the chair.  
  
"For Eru's sake, what are you doing, young Ernil?" Malthôn asked. He was obviously not amused.  
  
"I'm. in-vis. di-ble! INVISDIBLE! You can't see me!" yelled Legolas, shrinking to his knees behind the chair.  
  
"You mean invisible?"  
  
Legolas nodded.  
  
"You are most certainly visible, Ernil. Now do come out from behind the King's chair," Malthôn ordered. Legolas shook his head.  
  
"Malthôn, who are you to tell my son what to do?" Thranduil whispered. Then louder, he said, "Now, who are you talking to?" Legolas giggled.  
  
"My King, art thou blind? Can you not see that your-"  
  
"I see no one. You must be going mad. Now, get back to your feasting." Thranduil turned around and rubbed his temples. "He'll get a major drop in pay, that Galion."  
  
Meanwhile, on the other side of the hall, Angthoron started running in the shadows to catch up to his younger brother (who still hid behind the chair). Once he came up behind Malthôn's chair, he stopped and crouched. Sneakily and slowly, with Malthôn's suspicion growing, Angthoron knocked the crown off of Thranduil's head with his own sword. Legolas reacted by holding out his hands to catch it.  
  
Thranduil gasped. "Who? What..? Why is my crown not on my head?!" He spun around and saw Legolas innocently fingering it. "LEGOLAS!" The young elf slouched in fear of his father as the entire room grew silent and watchful.  
  
"W. What do you. I didn't do it Ada! Honestly!" he pleaded. He held out the crown to his father's awaiting hands. Thranduil promptly put it back on his head.  
  
"Well, if you didn't, then who did?"  
  
"I." His eyes scanned the room for Mein, but he was nowhere to be found.  
  
"I told you the brat was no good, nín Aran! I advised you before not to have him get inside!" Malthôn shouted.  
  
"Legolas, you are old enough to take responsibility for your own actions. I expect you to confess that you did this act, or you shall be sent to your room until you do!" Thranduil threatened.  
  
"But I didn't do it! It wasn't me! Honest!" he cried. He looked up at his father with such innocence that it was hard to believe he did it; however, Thranduil was immune to this "puppy-dog face" and could always sentence the harshest punishments.  
  
"You need to stop being so childish and act more responsibly as a young Prince should! You have used your chance, Legolas. I command you to go to your room!" Thranduil boomed. Legolas whimpered as immediately the guards were summoned to take him there. Thranduil slumped back in his chair as the guests all stared at him. "The show's over! You can go look at someone else now."  
  
Mein stood haughtily at the door's frame and sneered at him when Legolas passed. All Legolas could do was look at him, betrayed. Of course, Angthoron didn't care; it was his brother who got in trouble instead of him this time. It was his way of revenge for all of the times he was framed, no matter how cruel it was. Legolas would thus be known to the guests from Lothlórien as a nuisance and a dreadful example of a prince. Mein just smiled.  
  
~~~~~~~~ A/N: Reviews much appreciated. I'll continue the story shortly. 


	2. Taunting

Welcome to Chapter Two. Once again, I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, but I own Elanor, Niphredil, and Mallos as far as you're concerned. Read on. ~~~~~~~~  
  
Niphredil sat quietly in the corner of the room. She was supposed to be playing with the other children under the watch of Galion while the adults had a drink or two of the King's wine. However, none of the elves wanted to play with her so she just sat alone, musing. She watched as Elanor rounded up a few of the females and whispered in a clump to them.  
  
"Hey, Filth (their cruel nickname for Niphe)!" Elanor yelled across the room. "Why don't you come here and play with us, huh? We're gonna give you a break today!" Niphe stood up, but didn't trust the look they all gave her.  
  
"What are you, scared?" Mallos said after awhile.  
  
"No, I just don't want to play," Niphe replied.  
  
"I think she's scared," another she-elf.  
  
"No! I'm not, I just don't want to-"  
  
"Don't want to play with girls who look better than you?" Elanor asked. "Is that it?" Niphredil scowled. "O, it must be if you're reacting that way!"  
  
"Yeah, it must be!" Mallos repeated. "Just look at her face! It's so. disgusting!"  
  
"Daro! Please!" Niphe cried. Galion stirred in his chair at the other end of the room.  
  
"Girls? Is something going on over there that I should know about?" he asked. Elanor walked up to him.  
  
"Why no, Mister Butler Sir," she replied in a syrupy voice. She reached into her pocket and took from it a small vial of the King's finest wine. "Nothing you'll remember, at least."  
  
Galion gasped. "Is that.?" Elanor nodded. Galion reached out to take it but was cut short when Elanor waved it above his head.  
  
"You'll have to promise to not tell anyone what you've seen," she persuaded.  
  
"Gladly," he replied, and smiled. "Now hand it over." He snatched the bottle hungrily from her hands and began to drink in gulps as Elanor sauntered back to her group.  
  
"Now. where were we?"  
  
"I think we were just pointing out how repulsive Filth looks," Mallos said.  
  
"O yes. Can't forget that knotted hair of yours, Filth. It's so tangled that you couldn't find your way out if you had an army greater than Mirkwood's! Why, you probably haven't even heard of a comb!" The posse of Elanor laughed at the insults. Niphe bit her lip.  
  
"I have heard of a comb, if it's any of your business. That's just how my hair is," she said defensively.  
  
"Ooo, nice comeback. But there's no excuse for those eyes of yours," Mallos butted in.  
  
"Just look at them! They look like puddles of mud and human waste, don't they?" Elanor asked. The group nodded their heads. Niphe's lips began to quiver as she shrank below the might of the verbal abuse. "And those ears! How long and stupid they look! Why, if someone hadn't known better, they'd say you were a rabbit!" Everyone in the vicinity of the conversation roared with laughter.  
  
"Stop it! Just-stop!" Niphe cried. But her plea was lost in the sea of chortles. She turned in every direction to try to find someone, anyone who might defend her in this situation but no one was to be found. In a moment of pure panic and embarrassment, she ran across the room, opened the door in front of the already asleep Galion, and ran out of the room into the dark corridors outside.  
  
Niphredil sprinted through the hallways by only a candle's light here and there, and had to dodge several elves who were staggering back to their quarters. There was no particular place she was going; just anywhere away from them. She hoped that there were no trap doors or dead ends in the direction she was headed, or that the King wouldn't find her in this state and punish her to the dungeon, or that these paths didn't lead to the dungeon already. Quickly and lightly her footsteps fell until she came upon a clearing.  
  
'A garden!' she thought. 'It's the perfect place to hide.' She entered the Garden of Mirkwood, the singular garden in the entire woodland, and looked around. There were dozens of different kinds of flowers and bushes, and plenty of places to hide. In the center there was a great fountain that spouted the clearest water she had seen on that side of the Anduin. Forth from all of the foliage came almost unnaturally bright colors: rich greens, lavish blues and lavenders, intense oranges and yellows, and enchanting reds. It even had some colors never known to the race of man, which no one remembers now the name or the hue.  
  
Niphredil chose a large bush near the fountain to sit behind and await the rising of the Moon. She admired the Moon, as it was her only comfort in Lothlórien. She had once heard a tale about the Moon rescuing the Sun and found it awfully brave to do such a thing. There at the fountain she sat for a long while, until she was almost sure she was forgotten. Even then, she just looked at the sky and gazed at the Moon. At least He didn't think she was worthless.  
  
~~~~~~~~ A/N: Well, isn't this an uplifting story? Reviews appreciated. Now. 


	3. A Chance Encounter

Hi. I see you've come back. Don't know why though. Here's Chapter Three. Sorry it's so short, but I really had nothing else to write about in the chapter. Remember, I own nothing of Tolkien's, but I own Niphe and the Garden. Woot! ~~~~~~~~  
  
"In you go!" shouted one of the guards. Legolas was flung onto the floor of his room with a small cry.  
  
"You'll stay there until the King says otherwise," the other guard said.  
  
"B-but Ada never-" Legolas began.  
  
"Quiet, brat. We wouldn't want your father to come and yell at you more, now do we?" asked the first guard. Legolas pouted as the guards slammed his door closed and locked it.  
  
'I really didn't do it! Why won't anyone believe me?' Legolas thought. Then suddenly, it dawned on him. 'I need to get someone to believe me. Or at least to get Mein in trouble again!' He began to mull over ideas of how to escape when he spied the sheets on his bed. He looked over at the window, then again at his bed.  
  
'Ai!' he thought, putting two and two together. 'This is it!' He grabbed the sheets off of the bed and frantically (and unskillfully) tied its end to a curtain. Of course, he didn't need it to be that tight a knot, for he was but 700 years old, and scrawny at that. After he tugged it a few times, he proceeded to open the small window and throw his makeshift rope out of it. He climbed down carefully but quickly into the foliage below.  
  
Once Legolas scrambled to his feet, he wound his way through the corridors that lead to his brother Mein's room. Along the way he too passed a few drunken elves trying to find their way. They all stopped staggering down the hallway to taunt him at one time or another, but Legolas's determination kept him running to his destination. At the intersection of the halls, though, there were several guards waiting just in case either prince was to have the idea of going back to the banquet. Unfortunately, Angthoron's room was on the other side of these guards, and thusly Legolas could not pass them to reach it.  
  
Legolas sighed and sat against the wall on the floor. He peered around the corner and saw the ever-vigilant guards still looking out for anything suspicious. He turned again. 'Looks like this is the end of my future,' Legolas thought, just about to give up on his decision. He rose from his spot and began to walk in the opposite direction. At least going this way would give him a chance to go to his favorite place: the Garden.  
  
Legolas finally reached the garden, and walking in, sat down on the edge of the fountain with his chin in his hands. He sighed deeply.  
  
Suddenly, a noise came from behind him, and provoked him to turn around. It was a girl he had seen before when the company of Lothlórien had first passed through the doors of the palace. A sad look was on her face, and her black hair could barely be seen in the darkness of the Garden.  
  
"Who are you and why are you in my secret place?" Legolas asked her.  
  
"Why do you care? You're just gonna laugh at me anyway," replied the girl.  
  
"Hn? No I'm not! You're the one who's going to laugh at me," he said.  
  
"I promise I won't laugh. Besides, why would I? You're the prince, right?" she asked. Legolas nodded.  
  
"Yeah, the prince who got punished for being bad when it was really his BROTHER... You saw it. Ada was yelling and sent me to my room," he explained.  
  
"I know. But I also know it wasn't you," the girl said. "I saw your brother do it. You don't even have a weapon like that."  
  
". Really? You believe me?"  
  
"Uh huh! I know what it's like to be accused of things you didn't do. It happens all the time to me."  
  
"O," Legolas said. "Uh. what's your name?" The girl stood up and sat beside him.  
  
"My name's Niphredil as far as I know," said she.  
  
"Isn't that a name for a flower?" Legolas asked. She nodded.  
  
"I don't know why they named me that. I guess it's because there's another elf named Elanor," Niphredil said. "She's mean to me, but Galadriel likes her. She teases me a lot because I look weird."  
  
"I don't think you look weird," said the young prince.  
  
"Of course you do. Everyone does. I mean, I look different from everyone else. My hair is all black and knotted and ugly, and my eyes are disgusting. They all call me Filth, and they have a right to."  
  
Legolas observed her. She wasn't really as bad as she thought she was; her hair was a bit tangled, but other than that he thought it to be pretty. And her eyes weren't disgusting, in fact far from it in his mind. He thought she ought to stop putting herself down like that or else she really would become ugly.  
  
"I don't think your hair is ugly. And I think your eyes are pretty!"  
  
Her face lit up. "You. You really think so? You're not jesting like the other elves?"  
  
"Why would I jest? You're being nice to me so I'm being nice to you," Legolas said. Niphredil smiled slightly.  
  
"Do. Do you want to be friends?" she asked.  
  
"Sure!" Legolas said. "I promise I won't ever make fun of you. And I'll protect you from those mean elves!" He grabbed his knife and took it from its sheath.  
  
"And I promise I'll get your adar to believe you!" Niphredil said. "We'll be best friends forever!" She embraced him, careful to dodge the dagger. "I have to go warn Elanor about my new friend, the prince!" She stood up to run back, but Legolas caught her arm.  
  
"Don't call me the prince. Call me Legolas," he told her.  
  
"O... Okay then, Legolas! I'll come see you tomorrow, okay?" Niphredil said before running into the hallways again.  
  
Legolas sheathed his small knife and began to feel better. He had finally made a new friend other than his brother, and it was a *girl*, of all elves! He felt confident. Legolas began walking back to his room knowing that sooner or later he would get revenge for what Mein did.  
  
~~~~~~~~ A/N: Thanks for reading. Now. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE REVIEW! It'll just take three seconds of your time to be nice. Come on, please?  
  
~Trickssi 


	4. Proper Dues

Finally updated! Sometimes I'm just motivated to write, and today was one of those days. Please read and review. Dunno what I should call this chapter, though. Guess I'll come up with something! ~~~~~~~~  
  
A shaded ray of light entered the windows on the eastern side of Thranduil's palace. This was a sign of morning, and likely the most light the residents would see for the day. Practically everyone was up and about, save Galion who was still fighting an elven hangover. The cooks were preparing a large breakfast for the visitors and Mirkwood's people, but in the meantime most of the elves stood waiting in the dining hall. Luckily enough for Angthoron, Legolas hadn't seen him the whole morning; and therefore he would have time to think about his escape plans while waiting for his breakfast.  
  
In another corner of the room, Niphredil stood, waiting for the overly self-confident Elanor to appear in the room alongside Malthôn's family. Naturally, they were the last ones into the Hall (besides Galion); however, Elanor's greeting was bitter as ever.  
  
"Morning, Filth. It used to be good, but. heh. now I'm not so sure it shall ever be," she said.  
  
"Don't be so confident, Elanor! I have someone looking out for me today. You can't say anything 'cause my friend's gonna protect me!" Niphredil boasted, her nose as equally high in the air as Elanor's (and that was. pretty high).  
  
"O really, Filth? And who might this oh-so-important friend of yours be? Galion? Or perhaps that snotty older prince over there? Or could it be that. you really don't have any friends!" she laughed, and her lousy followers let out a few mocking sniggers.  
  
"I-I DO have a friend! And if you wanna know, his name's LEGOLAS and he's the PRINCE! So you can't say anything or else he'll hurt you with his dagger!"  
  
"Funny, I thought that little prick was too scrawny to do anything!" shouted Mallos. This brought more laughter.  
  
"Well he's not! He knows more than you, and he's not scrawny!"  
  
"O, I'm sorry, you're right. He's not scrawny. compared to you!" Elanor spat. Niphredil was thinking of some other way to defend herself and her new friend, but just as she opened her mouth, the prince himself came strutting in.  
  
"Ernil!" shouted Niphredil, running over to him. "No one would believe me about you!"  
  
"O hullo Niphe!" he greeted her. "Believe you about me, huh? Well, they ought to start believing or else they'll have a dagger in their heart!"  
  
"Oooooooooo, I'm soooo scared," mocked Elanor. "A dagger through my heart? As if a runt like you could hurt me at all!" Legolas scowled at her and put his hand to the dagger, still sheathed.  
  
"What did you call me?"  
  
"A runt. Hah, but your little girlfriend's scrawnier than you could ever be! And uglier too!"  
  
"She's NOT my girlfriend and she's not scrawny!" The dagger was now out and pointed at Elanor.  
  
"You wouldn't dare," she said.  
  
"Try me." At that moment, the doors to the dining hall swung open and elves began filing in and sitting down. Elanor scoffed and walked away. Legolas returned the dagger to its sheath.  
  
". You didn't have to do that." Niphredil's meek voice came from behind him.  
  
"Of course I did! Daggers can hurt people."  
  
"I mean, you didn't have to. defend me like that," she said.  
  
"Well of course I did! That's what friends are for, isn't it?" Legolas said smiling. He turned away and began into the hall himself. Niphredil just stood there. "Come on!" he prompted her.  
  
"I. don't have anywhere to sit today."  
  
"'Course you do! By me and my ada! I don't have anyone else to talk to either. 'Cept maybe my stupid brother. But I won't talk to him anyway. C'mon, let's go!" Niphredil ran to catch up with him, and the two walked into the hall.  
  
~~~~  
  
Legolas glared at his brother from across the table. After all, it was his fault that he had to sit here with his father instead of with the other little elves. Angthoron stuck out his tongue. Luckily, Thranduil hadn't noticed their foolery, for he was too busy talking with Niphredil about Mirkwood.  
  
"So Mister Legolas's Adar Aran Sir. What's it like living in this scary mountain thing?" she asked.  
  
Thranduil chuckled at the name he was called by her. "Niphredil, was it? You needn't call me anything but Aran."  
  
"Yes Mister Legolas's Adar Sir. I mean, Aran."  
  
"There you go. Now. living in Mirkwood isn't all that entirely bad. Sure, the trees block out the sun a lot, and this mountain doesn't help; but I definitely would pick living here over anywhere else. Those stupid Rivendell elves and their nonsense. I wish Elrond would whip them into shape! Or at least Galadriel and her little 'golden country' elves. Sometimes foreign elves are a bit. strange to me. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" Thranduil rambled. Niphredil nodded her head, and then shook it. Thranduil sighed. "Well. What I mean is, I like Mirkwood better than anywhere else in Arda."  
  
"Oooohhhhhhhh. I get it now! So you think other elves are stupid, huh?"  
  
"Well, I didn't say that exactly."  
  
"That's good, 'cause I think other elves are stupid too. I like it here! I think Lothlórien is the dumbest place ever. I wanna live here, 'cause now I have a friend!" Niphredil said. Thranduil laughed again. He remembered what it was like to be a child, and to not have any cares about the world, and love his homeland possessively, and play with his. lack of friends. He suddenly considered that adulthood was better.  
  
"So who is this little friend of yours? Angthoron? I certainly hope so, he needs a few friends. or one at least."  
  
"Nuh uh! It's Legolas here!" she giggled, and pointed to him. Legolas was making faces at Angthoron, but looked up at the mention of his name to see the angered face of his father.  
  
"Uhh. Suilad?"  
  
"Legolas, you know better than to make fun of your brother," he said.  
  
"Well Mein was making fun of me first! Remember yesterday, with your crown? Mein did it so I would look dumb in front of everyone!" Angthoron suppressed a laugh; he did find it a rather humorous situation.  
  
"I have already discussed this with you, my son. Do not lie or you shall be punished again!"  
  
"But Mister Aran! Legolas really didn't do it! I saw him!" Niphredil interrupted. Thranduil stopped yelling for a second and looked at her. "A. Angthor. him-" she pointed-"He knocked it off of your head and Legolas caught it! So i Ernil was just trying to help, sir." Legolas nodded in agreement.  
  
"I wasn't gonna do it! Mein was! And he's so-MEAN!" Legolas yelled.  
  
"This is truly the situation?" Thranduil asked. Both nodded, but Angthoron shook his head in opposition.  
  
"I didn't do it Ada! Honest!" he said.  
  
"Angthoron, have you framed your brother?"  
  
"Nuh uh! I swear!"  
  
Thranduil sighed. "You cannot lie to me, Angthoron. I can tell by your face that you were the one who got your brother in trouble. And for that mindless act, you will be punished to." His voice trailed off. What was the worst possible punishment for his older son? Hn. He thought about punishing him to be with Galion all day, but realized the alcohol intake that was inevitable. Angthoron didn't like girls. Aha! "Angthoron, you will be punished to attending to the little princess from Southern Mirkwood!" His expression changed from innocence to pure, angry surprise.  
  
"ADA! You can't make me be with HER! She's so. obnoxious! And vile! And RUDE!" Angthoron screeched.  
  
"O yes I can. And I am. Now, when she arrives, you'll take her to her quarters." By this time, Angthoron had stormed off to his room and left his chair lying on the floor. Thranduil sighed.  
  
"Stupid brother. Serves him right," said Legolas.  
  
"That's not nice!" Niphredil shouted.  
  
"Well do you think it was nice to make fun of me in front of everyone?"  
  
There was a pause in which Niphredil lowered her head, thinking. What of all those times Elanor had made fun of her? That certainly wasn't nice. ". No, I guess not."  
  
Suddenly, Legolas stood up. "Ada, can we go play?" With a nod, Thranduil mumbled something that sounded like "Yes."  
  
"Yay! I have so much fun stuff to show you, Niphe!"  
  
"-BUT." interrupted Thranduil. "You must be back after lunch. The Southerners are expected some time after that."  
  
"O, all right," Legolas groaned. He motioned for Niphredil to get up and come along with him.  
  
"Uhh. Thank you Mister Legolas's Ada Aran Sir!" she said before quickly exiting.  
  
"Kids," sighed Thranduil.  
  
~~~~~~~~ A/N: All righty. Now that you've read, please review! It takes like. three, four seconds at most, and I *really* could use some encouragement after getting 30+ flames in one day for my other story. So.where was I? O yeah. Please REVIEW!!  
  
~Starving artist, Trickssi 


	5. Of Dropping Eaves and Immortal Flowers

So... here's Chapter Five. I guess... I guess this story is a little AU, even though the events (the attacks on Mirkwood) are going to be the same. I just saw Tolkien's elves as a bit... too blasé for their own good. So I'm giving each character a little more flavor than he would have, okay? 'Cause no one likes an apathetic elf.  
  
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Niphredil and Legolas raced to the Garden as quickly as they could. Legolas couldn't wait to show her his favorite plant in the Garden; he intended on watering it that day as well. The plant was of indescribable color, and no one now remembers its name, but other than 'Legolas's Plant' the only other name for it at that time was (of course, created by Mein) 'That Stupid Plant in the Corner That Nobody Can Touch Except For My Stupid Brother'. And it was true; Legolas would not permit anyone other than himself to water it, or touch it. Indeed, it wasn't the best-looking plant in the Garden, but it was his. He had cared for it ever since Thranduil insisted so.  
  
"Hah! I... beat... you!" boasted Niphredil, entering the Garden.  
  
"That's 'cause I let you win!" Legolas said. He wasn't running the fastest, after all. He didn't much like running, or getting beaten by girls, but that problem would have to be fixed later. Right then, he had to take care of his plant. He walked over to its corner and picked up the watering can next to it.  
  
"What are you doing?" asked Niphredil. "Are you going to water that plant? I thought that princes didn't have to-"  
  
"I don't. But this is my special plant, and I have to take care of it," he explained. He took the can and went out of the Garden to fetch water from a nearby room, and came back staggering under the weight of the collected water. He poured the contents onto the plant and set the watering can down.  
  
"What's it called?"  
  
"The plant? I dunno... Ada didn't tell me. But it's Legolas's Plant to me!"  
  
Niphredil giggled. "Legolas's Plant? You need a better name for it! Look at the little flowers in it..." She pointed at the small white flowers that were beginning to bud. "It reminds me of the flower I was named after. Galadriel says the word for 'small white flower' is 'alfirin'. So maybe we could call it... an alfirin."  
  
Legolas thought for a minute. Was he really going to let a girl choose the name of his plant? "Okay... but only because I like the way it sounds."  
  
"I wonder where it comes from."  
  
"Me too... We should ask Ada sometime."  
  
"Yeah, Aran's nice. You're lucky to have an adar like him," Niphredil said sweetly. She took one of the leaves of the alfirin plant and began playing with it in her hands.  
  
"Why, don't you have a nice adar?" Legolas asked. Niphredil shook her head.  
  
"I haven't got an adar at all. I mean... people say I did, but I think he's dead. And I don't have a naneth either. I don't know what happened to her."  
  
"Aww! That's too bad... I don't have a naneth either. Ada says she 'cheated' on him, like in a game, I guess. But I guess since she didn't play by the rules, she had to leave. I bet she was nice, though. I talk to Mein about her all the time," said Legolas.  
  
Niphredil smiled. Well, at least the both of them were in the same boat; and hopefully that boat wouldn't sink later along in time.  
  
Just then, Angthoron whipped around the corner and ran past the garden. After a moment, he came back and looked at the two of them. He approached them. "Well, well, well," he said. "If it isn't my stupid brother and his girlfriend."  
  
"Grr! She's NOT my girlfriend! She's just my friend! And why are you here, anyway?" Legolas said.  
  
"Uh... I was..."  
  
"Weren't you supposed to be getting ready for that princess girl?" Niphredil asked. Angthoron scowled.  
  
"I'm not takin' care of no stupid girl," he yelled. "Girls are stupid. Especially this one."  
  
"Then why do you have to take care of her?" Legolas inquired.  
  
"...BECAUSE, okay? Ada said I had to 'cause there were some sort of attacks in Southern Mirkwood and everyone from there had to come up here," Angthoron said.  
  
"What kind of attacks?" Niphredil asked.  
  
"Eru, what is this? What are you, my parents? Stop asking me questions!"  
  
"But... I wanna know..."  
  
Angthoron sighed. "All right, I'll tell you. Yrch came on the borders... Very bad yrch. They're being ruled by some evil guy from waaaaay down south near Harad. I hear they might try to attack us!" The small elves gasped.  
  
"Really?" asked Legolas.  
  
"No, I'm lying," Angthoron said, laced with sarcasm.  
  
"O, that's good," Niphredil sighed with relief.  
  
"Peh. Stupid kids. I'm outta here," spat Angthoron, walking away.  
  
"D'ya think he meant that?" Legolas asked.  
  
"I can't tell," Niphredil said; and went back admiring the alfirin plant.  
  
~~~~  
  
Angthoron went on walking angrily through the halls. He knew he had to take care of the stubborn princess no matter how much he opposed. His Ada would force him. And he hated that girl with every fiber of his being. She was younger than he, but she acted like she wasn't. And worst of all, she acted like a male. He pitied her a bit for being an only child; he knew how fun it was to tease his younger brother.  
  
As he passed the rooms on his right, he heard the voice of his father talking to Malthôn, Galion, and some other strange elf. He paused and listened to what they had to say.  
  
"... think we need to protect ourselves more," Thranduil said in a low voice.  
  
"That's right, since the Southerners are coming now, Sauron will be able to pinpoint us more easily," Galion whispered.  
  
"I don't think my people should stay here much longer," Malthôn suggested. "We may be getting ourselves in deeper than we need to."  
  
"The last thing I want is war at the present, Malthôn. I have seen my father die in war, and I swear to never go to war again. You are quite safe here," Thranduil assured him.  
  
So that's what happened to my grand-Ada, thought Angthoron. Ada would never speak of it before...  
  
"But, nín Hir, even if you do not want to go to war, it may come to you. And I do not want to be here when that happens."  
  
"Do you mean to say that you are sure war will come here?" asked the unfamiliar voice.  
  
"With my experience, yes," Malthôn bragged.  
  
"Don't be so sure of your 'experience', Mal. You barely have any at all. We're not fooled."  
  
Angthoron sat down next to the door and listened intently. Was war really going to be seen again in this country? He had already lost his grand-Ada, and his Ada had to fight in one. He didn't want to be next. In fact, he could barely wield a weapon in the first place; his brother was a better candidate for fighting. He absolutely did not want to see the face of war again at his young age.  
  
"Either way, we're going to have to create some sort of a draft just to be safe," Thranduil said.  
  
"I suppose this will be more discussed when i Aran of Southern Mirkwood comes around?" Galion said.  
  
"Yes, I suppose... Meeting adjourned until a later time."  
  
The elves began to file out of the room, Galion first. As soon as he exited, Galion took a swig of wine that he'd saved for the occasion; how he'd hated to discuss things with the King! Next came Malthôn, nerves shot and self-esteem lowered. Everyone would have thought he deserved it, though. A female elf followed them, and she was beautiful by any standards. Her face was taut and concentrated, and her walk was precise. She was one of the head officials of the army. Thranduil left last, and spotted Angthoron on the floor.  
  
"My son, what on Arda are you doing out here? Did you hear anything in there?" he questioned.  
  
Angthoron shook his head. "I was just... waiting for the... princess to arrive," he lied through his teeth.  
  
"O good! Don't worry, they will be coming sooner than you think. Now, run along and play with... eh... your brother. Nicely."  
  
"But Ada, Legolas has his stupid girlfriend playing with him."  
  
"Well, make friends. It won't hurt you a bit," demanded Thranduil. He turned and went back to his throne room, awaiting word on the Southerners. Angthoron sighed and walked through the corridors.  
  
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A/N: Why is it that I get more flames than reviews on stories? I mean, not that I have flames yet, but... I got more reviews when they were flames. Now come on, I'm not that bad of a writer, am I? Please, show some love! Reviews are HIGHLY accepted here!  
  
~Starving artist, Trickssi 


	6. Strange Southerners

Woohoo! Finally, the sixth chapter is here! It took a lot of research, and a lot of Sindarin dictionaries to figure out what to do for this chapter. Please read + review. Also, a big fat huge THANK YOU!! to all of my reviewers and readers so far. Thirteen certainly is a lucky number ^.^ Keep reading, guys! Now, on to the story.  
  
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"HIR NÍN! HIR NÍN! THEY HAVE ARRIVED!"  
  
Thranduil sighed and left his wine glass (though unwillingly) on the table beside his throne. "Dear Elbereth, not now..." He slowly walked to the exterior of the palace, Galion and a few other servants in tow, and wearily opened the doors to the kingdom.  
  
It was raining outside by that time, and the entire host of elves was sopping wet from their journey. The Aran of Southern Mirkwood, Alagos, stood at the front of the mob with his Rín beside him.  
  
"Aran Thranduil, it was nice of you to decide to allow us into your Palace," Alagos said. "Though we are already aware that those... Lothlórien elves are here..."  
  
"Aran Alagos, do not spit the word as if it were poison. Even though our lower elves are supposed to think much more vindictive than we, we ought to not let that hate seep into us. Now, come inside before I change my mind about letting you stay here," Thranduil ordered.  
  
"Nín Hir, did you just hear what Thranduil said about lowly elves?" asked Rín Helenaur. Alagos tried to contain himself, for he knew that anger around Thranduil could result in something drastic.  
  
"Yes, Helenaur, I heard very well what he said."  
  
"And you are not going to do anything about it?" questioned Helenaur.  
  
"...No, nín Rín. We are in the presence of higher elves than we, and behavior is a first concern."  
  
Thranduil stepped back and allowed the elves of the South to pass through the doors. He was drawn to watching their faces as they passed by; faces of younger elves, of elves who still had a chance to make Arda a better or worse place. He saw the face of the young princess; the scar over her left eye disturbed him. How could Alagos possibly let something like that happen to his daughter, his only heir? He decided he would want to change the way Alagos ruled... He would probably engage one of his sons to Alagos's daughter. That would show him who the boss of Mirkwood is!  
  
As the last of the elves entered the Palace, Thranduil scanned the area for any spies of Sauron, or thieves. There weren't signs of either, so he quickly closed and locked the doors. You just never knew these days; Sauron's forces were beginning to attack Amon Lanc, and its name was now changed to something he'd forgotten. Luckily they hadn't reached the north yet, but word was coming that the yrch had infested the Mountains. Thranduil hoped they wouldn't come over the challenges of that Mountain and come harm the refugees; or worse, his own people.  
  
Galion turned to Thranduil. "Nín Aran, do you wish me to send for your son?"  
  
"Eh. Which one again?"  
  
"Angthoron, nín Hir. He was to tend to i heryn tithen, am I correct?" Galion guessed.  
  
"O. Yes, yeah... Go get him, will you? And... fetch me my wine, if you would," Thranduil said.  
  
"Hn, only if you allow me more pay," argued the butler.  
  
"Fine, fine. Just fetch it, all right?"  
  
Galion smiled as he went off to run his errands. How he loved negotiation...  
  
~~~~  
  
Angthoron, meanwhile, had busied himself by looking at, and/or ruining the books in Aran Thranduil's library. Sure, there were interesting ones, but they were scarce to him. Most were on politics, some on the creation of Arda; all things he had to learn in lessons. Wasn't there *anything* that was exciting in his own ada's library? Angthoron suddenly had doubts that he wanted to be aran, that it would be too much work and no fun. O well, he thought. At least I'll be able to drink all the wine I want!  
  
At that very moment, Galion strode in the doorway looking overly confident.  
  
"Hir Tithen nín," he addressed Angthoron. It meant "Little Lord"; and he resented being referred to as 'little'.  
  
"I have a name, Galion."  
  
"Apologies, Angthoron. You are supposed to be tending to the Heryn Tithen at the present; the Southern Elves had just arrived," Galion announced.  
  
Angthoron groaned. "Do I have to?"  
  
"Yes, you do. Otherwise I'll receive a demotion and you'll be punished further. So, if you please, go find her immediately."  
  
Angthoron thought about this for a moment; how he loathed his father for making him do this, how he hated girls, how he wanted to get out of there. "... NO." Suddenly, he buzzed out of the room and down the lengthy corridors, tripping over elves and statues and such. Galion raced after him.  
  
"Wait!! ANGTHORON!" Galion cried desperately. He knew he could not run faster than a Greenleaf, nor was he going to try. He let Angthoron run as fast as he could, for he knew not his destination: the woods.  
  
~~~~  
  
Thranduil approached the young princess of Southern Mirkwood among the other elves. She did not notice him at first, but was examining her wooden sword in its sheath.  
  
"*Ahem*, Heryn Tithen Draugcel?" he questioned. She looked up at him.  
  
"Whaddaya want?"  
  
"Well, if you did not already know, I am the Aran of Northern Mirkwood..."  
  
"O. Sorry about that, then."  
  
"...and I have some other young elves of my own. Since... eh... since we're in sort of a desperate situation at the present, it would be my honor if you would please stay in the company of my eldest son. He likes to protect people and I am positive that he will get along with you."  
  
Draugcel glared at him. "You want me to play with your little son?" she asked.  
  
"Why, yes, if it's possible," Thranduil said with a fake smile.  
  
"Tsch. I ain't gonna play with any boy. HAH!" She stomped on Thranduil's toe and dashed off in another direction. Thranduil doubled over from the pain in his foot.  
  
"Ai... Where's Galion...?"  
  
"Here, sir," Galion stated, out of breath. He had just run back to the Aran after trying to catch Angthoron.  
  
"What the-where did you-??"  
  
"Ion lín, Aran nín!" Galion said, falling into Sindarin in a moment of urgency.  
  
"Ion nín? I Hir Tithen o i Ernil Tithen?"  
  
"Hir Tithen lín. E norn...!"  
  
"Man dôr?"  
  
"Ú-iston."  
  
Upon hearing these words, Thranduil did not know what Galion meant, but he suspected that Angthoron had opposed the idea and gone into hiding of some sort.  
  
"Enni togtha den."  
  
~~~~  
  
Draugcel found herself outside after weaving her way through the corridors and through the back entrance. She held up her sword defensively. There had to be something on which she could take out her anger. Aha! She found a black squirrel sitting atop a branch, defenseless.  
  
"Heh heh... I see you, squirrel... I'll chop your legs off!" she threatened.  
  
Angthoron stumbled out of the door and into the woods. He thought he heard someone say something, and his head jerked up.  
  
"WHAT?!" he exclaimed. He examined the girl; a tunic, dirty blonde hair about his length, and a sword. "A girl? In my forest?"  
  
The squirrel, in fear of the shouts, ran away. Draugcel lowered her sword and turned around in disgust. "Look what you did! I had it right there, and then it left all 'cause of YOU!"  
  
"PEH! Look what YOU did! This is my forest, get out!"  
  
"Says who?" she retorted.  
  
"Says... me! No stupid little girls allowed on my property!" Angthoron shouted. Draugcel tried to calm herself as the anger built up within her.  
  
"I... am going to have to punish you for making that squirrel leave. What I was going to do to it, I shall do to you," she said slowly.  
  
"Peh! You couldn't. You're just a stupid girl," Angthoron bragged.  
  
"First of all, I'm not stupid. Second of all, heh heh..." Draugcel raised her sword to his nose.  
  
"But you're a girl. It's automatic!" he argued.  
  
Draugcel breathed in deeply. "Back off, or I'll hurt you, ya sissy prince," she said slowly.  
  
"WHAT?!" Angthoron exploded. "I'm not a sissy! I'm gonna be KING someday!"  
  
"Well so am I and I'm gonna take over your kingdom so HA!" Draugcel spat, unknowingly.  
  
"You can't be king."  
  
"Who says? Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean anything."  
  
"Everyone knows that kings are boys and queens are girls," Angthoron corrected. "And girls are much weaker and dumber, and less powerful... and NOT allowed in this forest!"  
  
"Then I'll just have to be a really powerful queen and kick your sissy butt!" Draugcel shouted, once again readying her sword.  
  
"Not if I kick yours first." Angthoron raised his fists at her.  
  
"Are you so sure about that?" Draugcel asked mockingly. "Because you know, your kingliness, I wouldn't want to hurt you too bad..."  
  
"Peh! I'm not afraid to smite a lady," he said, with an afterthought, "... not like you are one anyway!"  
  
"Then you don't know who I am! GRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!" Draugcel shouted, tackling him and beating him with her wooden sword.  
  
"AI!" cried Angthoron.  
  
"DIE, FOUL BEING!" she yelled, still striking him.  
  
"Stop that, you fool!"  
  
"Sorry. Was that too much?" Draugcel questioned. She sunk her teeth into his arm, and after letting out a screech, Angthoron kicked her. As soon as she swooped down for another attack, he grabbed her hair and yanked it.  
  
"Aiiiiiiii!" she cried. "This oughta teach you..." Draugcel smacked him across the face with one side of her sword. Angthoron pushed her and stood up.  
  
"Now that I'm up," he began, "it should show you who's the boss around here!" Draugcel scowled and threw him to the ground, discarding her sword into a nearby bush. She began to punch him intensely, and at one point bit his arm again in the same spot.  
  
After a bit of screaming, Angthoron tried to strike back. "You-can't- beat-me! You're a girl!"  
  
"Cha! I'll rip your throat out!" screamed Draugcel, delivering a final blow to his jaw. Angthoron couldn't take it anymore.  
  
"DARO! DARO! I want Ada!" he yelped. "Don't hurt me, we can share the forest!"  
  
Draugcel put a foot on his chest and pointed her sword at him. "Then I win."  
  
"Sure, sure! Just please don't hurt me again!"  
  
"Ha," she said, putting her sword away and leaping onto the branch of a nearby tree. "Now, be gone."  
  
"Wait... I want to know your name, o friend of the forest," Angthoron said.  
  
"It's Draugcel. Lady Draugcel to you, but Cel to others," she spat from the tree.  
  
"That's a... boys' name, isn't it?"  
  
"Nuh uh. It's my name."  
  
"Well... My name's Angthoron. Prince Angthoron to you, but Mein to others," said he.  
  
"Just as I suspected. You're the brat brother of that kid Legolas, right?" Draugcel asked.  
  
"Peh. HE's the brat. So annoying and stupid..."  
  
"You're both brats, from what my parents say. You're almost exactly alike... Except I bet he knows better than to fight with me!"  
  
"Yeah, well... I like to fight," lied Angthoron. He was obviously trying to outsmart her in some way.  
  
"Maybe you *are* dumber than him."  
  
"I would have beaten you if it wasn't for that stupid sword!" he shouted.  
  
"Heh, sure. Ya want a rematch, runt? I'll not use the sword this time," Draugcel suggested.  
  
"...Later. I'm going to take a walk."  
  
"...Sissy," Draugcel surrendered as Angthoron walked away. There went her fighting opponent; and the only person who had spoken to her outside her family all day. She hoped he might come back, even though she knew he probably wouldn't. Oh well. Back to that squirrel...  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Though this may have been the toughest chapter yet, I believe I can drag out at least four more chapters with this story. I've actually come up with a plot! Huzzah! Now, just click that little button... right there... You know which one. Oh, but don't switch it from review, okay? Hehe... Uhm... 'Bye.  
  
~Trickssi 


	7. Dagro O Udagro?

Seventh chapter completed. This is a much shorter one than six, but it has the conflict becoming more prevalent within the story. Please read and review, another thirteen reviews couldn't possibly hurt!  
  
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In Aran Thranduil's meeting chamber, the same four people and the additional two royals of Southern Mirkwood sat to discuss the matters of the rising threat.  
  
"Before we left, there were attacks on our Palace, and on the houses of our country," Helenaur explained. "That's how Draugcel... That's how she got her..."  
  
"Scar?" Thranduil suggested. Helenaur nodded sorrowfully. "I might've guessed it had something to do with Sauron."  
  
"Indirectly," stated Alagos. "It was not yrch that scarred her face. The clue is to remember that wolves do roam the parts of our estate. It was indirectly an attack from Sauron."  
  
"Direct or indirect, it was still an attack," Malthôn said. "What with all of these attacks it is certainly unsafe in any region of Mirkwood. I don't know why I brought my people here."  
  
"Then I shall remind you: it was to aid our plight, which you have not even tried to do so far," Thranduil said.  
  
"Aran nín, if I should put my people in danger..."  
  
"They are not your people, Malthôn. They are the Galadhrim, and belong to Lothlórien's Galadriel and Celeborn. They are not your property and do not ever call them so."  
  
"Maethien, please calm yourself. We are trying to have a serious discussion," Thranduil ordered. Maethien sat back in her seat. She was the leader of the Mirkwood militia; how was she to just let this-foreigner- take over what was not his?  
  
"Aranno nin. I was not being... rational."  
  
"On the matter of dangers, we know not how many yrch there are at our Palace as of late," Alagos said at length. "...Though, I do fear that they may take over the Palace and turn it into their own fortress to promote evil across the land."  
  
"This is what may very well come to be," Maethien stated. A look of fear came over the face of Helenaur.  
  
"You mean to say that I will never have a residence again?" she asked.  
  
"No, I am just saying that-"  
  
Abruptly there was a knock on the door. Galion sighed and opened it. "There you are, Angthoron!" Indeed, Angthoron was standing in the doorway, flustered.  
  
"What happened, ion nín?" questioned Thranduil, getting up to examine him.  
  
"Got in a fight," he managed to say.  
  
"With whom?"  
  
"Stupid girl."  
  
"O no," said Thranduil quietly. "Draugcel?"  
  
"Draugcel?!" Helenaur shouted. "You fought my daughter? Fiend!" She rose from her chair, and meant to show Angthoron some respect. Alagos restricted her.  
  
"Helenaur, do not get angry. You must remember that Cel probably started it," he said.  
  
"She DID!" Angthoron shouted. "And she beat me up!"  
  
"O, that girl," sighed Alagos. "We'll have to set her straight as soon as she comes back."  
  
"Where were you, anyway?" Galion inquired.  
  
"Outside. Forest," he answered shortly.  
  
"Well no wonder I couldn't find you."  
  
"Enough of this mindless chatter. Angthoron, I'm glad you're safe-"  
  
"But she beat me up!"  
  
"...glad you're safe, but we have a meeting. Could you please... maybe... go find your brother and play with him?" Thranduil begged. "And don't get beaten up this time."  
  
Angthoron nodded silently and passed out of the room.  
  
"Where were we again?" Thranduil asked.  
  
"My Palace," Helenaur prompted.  
  
"O yes. Well. We'll... have to take care of your palace later, when it is not infested by yrch or the like. Nonetheless, I believe that if we attempt to create an army now, when in a vulnerable position, Sauron will take up the opportunity and kill us all."  
  
"I believe that is true also," Maethien said. "In my position it is easy to tell that if we go down there and try to attack, everyone in the army will die. Besides, on the journey down there will be darkness, and we may have to cross the River. Many supplies will be lost, and strength will be down to nearly naught. And after that, we are expected to fight a war? It is impossible to achieve."  
  
"What of my Palace?" Helenaur implored.  
  
"Your Palace will just have to wait. There are more important matters at hand," Galion said.  
  
"Lords and Ladies, please listen," Malthôn piped up. "Obviously war is the best option here. You collect a few good elves, you battle it out, you win. We've done this before, not too long ago. You can do it again!"  
  
"Malthôn, you fool," Maethien said. "You confuse even yourself. Before, you had said you wanted to protect 'your people'. Now you are sending them into war? This is utter lunacy!"  
  
"Ai, but you are forgetting the pronouns I chose to use. I said 'you' could collect the elves, battle, and win. Not I."  
  
"Then you must have something up your sleeve," Maethien decided.  
  
"Nay, naught," Malthôn said. He did not really mean it; in fact, he meant to slip out of sight in the midst of war, unnoticed.  
  
"Whichever you believe, yet we are not going to war; not until we have more information," Thranduil demanded.  
  
"When do you suppose that will be?" Alagos asked.  
  
Thranduil thought for a moment, then responded: "Maethien, you will get your best few scouts and journey down to the Mountains of Mirkwood. If you do not see aught, go down further until you do see something worth telling us. Upon your return, you will give every single detail about what was going on down there. Understood?"  
  
"Understood, Aran nín," Maethien replied. She rose from her seat and left the room immediately.  
  
"As for the rest of you," Thranduil continued, "the meeting is adjourned until further notice once more."  
  
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A/N: Maybe I could squeeze in more than I expected. This story is growing to an immense size, much more immense than I could ever have imagined! It's my first really structured fanfic on ff.net and I'm proud to say that I've been working extra hard to get the details correct, and most of the time they are. I plan to redo this story so that it looks better in the future, but as for now... I believe it's decent enough to read, non? So PLEASE review my li'l fanfic, okay? I've worked so hard at it!  
  
~Trickssi 


	8. The Evil That Has Arisen

Apologies for this late arrival. I just had a mishap with my foot... sprained it trying to do a ballet combination for class. Honestly, crutches are fun until you need to use them. I feel ashamed to be writing about these perfect elves when I am such a mortal person... Nevertheless, here is chapter eight. Enjoy and *review*, por favor.  
  
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It had been nearly a week since Maethien had journeyed out toward the Mountain, and all who knew of this journey were at an uneasy rest. The Southerners had set up their things in any extra room they could find; for now the Northern Mirkwood Palace was not just a place to visit: it was their home. Meanwhile, the Lothlórien elves were trying to get out of Mirkwood entirely. Thranduil had mulled the thought over and over but still could not decide whether or not he wanted to tell the masses of elves what was occurring in Amon Lanc. He was planning on holding a banquet in mock honor of the Southern elves' arrival, then telling them about the mishaps there. He knew it wouldn't go very well, but he had to give it a shot.  
  
The dining hall was lavishly decorated by Galion (who knew he could be an interior designer?), and all of the food prepared. The well-off elves were dressed in their best clothing, even the richer children. Most of them had had their hair done by some sort of servant of the Palace, except for those who could do their own hair, which were a sparse few. To complete the ruse, Legolas and Angthoron had to act, dress, walk, and talk like princes; this took some time and a whole lot of screaming to finally get them to understand. The princess Draugcel was in a dress, but wearing boys' trousers underneath. She disliked the thought of acting like a lady extremely, and insisted on leaving her hair down. Niphredil had not been attended to by anyone before the Banquet although no one could tell; she chose her best dress and thoroughly brushed her hair beforehand.  
  
Once the Hall had opened, elves of both races poured in. Mostly, Mirkwood elves all stayed together on one side and Lothlórien elves had established themselves opposite them. The younger elves had a separate table, as to distract them from the imminent business matters; and even there groups had begun to form. Legolas, Niphredil, and Angthoron (in that order) had sat together; Draugcel sat beside Angthoron for she was friends with no other Southern Mirkwood residents. Elanor, Mallos, Authan, and various other children of the Golden Wood were opposite them at the table, with various Mirkwood elves strewn in between them. Not one dared to speak until a roar of adult conversations had arisen already in the room.  
  
"Hey Angthoron, who's that girl sitting beside you?" Niphredil asked, poking at the food on her plate.  
  
"You mean me?" Draugcel prompted, jolting forward to look across Angthoron at her.  
  
"Y-yes... Uh... Suilad!" she began humbly, and stuttered trying to remember the Sindarin: "Man eneth lín?"  
  
"Ya don't have to use that formal stuff with me just 'cause I'm a princess," Draugcel said. "Cel's the name; or Draugcel, if you don't plan on becoming a friend."  
  
"O, I do! And my name's Niphe," said she.  
  
"What kind of a name is that?" Draugcel asked rudely.  
  
"It's short for Niphredil," Legolas piped up, "like the flower!"  
  
"That's stupid," Angthoron said. "I mean, you don't even look like the flower. You would think they'd have saved the name for someone with silver hair."  
  
"Er, thanks," Niphredil said.  
  
"Well what do you know anyway? You stupid prince," Draugcel muttered at Angthoron. He became enraged.  
  
"I am NOT stupid!" he yelled.  
  
"You're stupid enough to pick a fight with me!" Angthoron grumbled and went back to his meal. Not that anyone was eating much of anything. There was tension thick enough to be cut by a sword in the room as everyone ate uneasily.  
  
"You know," Legolas said at length, "Ada never usually throws banquets like this."  
  
"Well, duh, muindor tithen. Something is obviously awry. Can't you tell by all the people's faces?" Angthoron said. Legolas looked around and saw the anticipation of something indescribable on many faces of the room.  
"I wouldn't know," Draugcel said, prior to stuffing her face full of some sort of baked animal.  
  
"Well I would," said Angthoron. "If it's any of your business, little twerps, I overheard Ada in a meeting with some other elves. He was talking about-Southern Mirkwood, I believe; something with yrch. Lots of 'em."  
  
Draugcel gasped. "At my home? How many exactly?"  
  
"I wouldn't know. Ada wouldn't say. But he did say he thought you can't ever go back there."  
  
"Serves them right," a familiar voice chorused in. It was Elanor. "I mean, they don't deserve to be here anyway."  
  
"Neither do you," Draugcel spat. Elanor sneered. "Your kind is just here to be annoying, but we have to be here. You wouldn't understand, fool."  
  
"Hahaha," laughed Elanor sarcastically. "Did you just call me a fool?"  
  
"So what if I did?"  
  
"Then I suggest you take it back," Mallos stated. "You must not know Elanor."  
  
"She doesn't," Niphredil whispered to Legolas.  
  
"She ought not mess with Elanor," he whispered back.  
  
"I shan't take it back. I mean every word that comes out of my mouth, and I make sure of that," Draugcel said, glaring at Elanor. Her hand strayed down to her hip where a small dagger rested, sheathed, under her dress. Draugcel never wanted to take chances.  
  
"Then prepare to face consequences," Elanor said. She opened her mouth wide, as a young child would to tattle on another. "MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALTHÔN!"  
  
"I've had enough of your supposed superiority," Draugcel said firmly, taking out the dagger and pointing it at Elanor from across the table. Niphredil and Legolas gasped, as did half of the rest of the children. Angthoron just laughed.  
  
"Hah, stupid little girl you are to mess with Cel," he said to Elanor. "She really does know how to use that..." He touched his jaw where Draugcel had punched him and recoiled slightly.  
  
Elanor looked horrified at the dagger, but at that moment, Malthôn came waltzing over to the table to answer the call of the little wench. Draugcel promptly hid her dagger underneath the table.  
  
"What is it, Elanor dear?"  
  
"Th-th-that girl right there," she stuttered, pointing at Draugcel. "She has a dagger!"  
  
Malthôn gave a look of knowledge; the look that parents give their children when they are talking of nonsensical things. "Silly, there is no way that this little girl can have a dagger."  
  
"Yes there is!" Elanor shouted. "Look! She's got one!"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Malthôn stated. "Now, do not make me come over here unnecessarily with talk of absurd things."  
  
"But it's not absurd, it's-"  
  
"May I have your attention, please?" Thranduil's voice boomed over the bustling crowd. All speech came to naught as soon as this announcement was made. All attention was on Thranduil, who was under the utmost pressure to inform the guests and residents of the reality in Southern Mirkwood. "This Banquet has been held to celebrate the coming together of Southern and Northern Mirkwood for the first time in a century!" A tremendous amount of applause came from the tables belonging to the Mirkwood elves, but the Lothlórien elves clapped gingerly. "But that is not all that this Banquet contains... As many of you Southern Mirkwoodians know, there have been some difficulties in the South with... erm..."  
  
A door swung open violently and a badly injured elf fell to the floor. A gasp arose in the mass as Thranduil ran to the elf's side.  
  
"Hír nin, Hír nin!" he cried as Thranduil approached him. "Maethien firn!"  
  
"Na man?" Thranduil asked.  
  
"Dangen... na yrch o Dol Guldur..." The elf seemed to have tried to say more, but collapsed completely into his own silver blood.  
  
"Is that all the information we shall have?" Thranduil asked himself. He turned back toward his people. "This elf, brave soul... seems to think that there is an orc-fortress down in Southern Mirkwood called the Hill of Sorcery, hence Dol Guldur. Our Maethien and countless others have been slain by the foul hands of yrch." Another gasp came from the crowd, then fervent whispering. "And that, my people, is the evil that has arisen..."  
  
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A/N: I have decided to throw in some freebie translations for any of you who do not understand the point I was trying to make...  
  
IN CHAPTER SIX:  
  
"Ion lín, Aran nín"-"Your son, my King." "Ion nín? I Hir Tithen o ir Ernil Tithen?"-"My son? (literally: The Little Lord or the Little Prince, but also could be: ) Angthoron or Legolas?" "Hir Tithen lín. E norn...!"-"(Your Little Lord or) Angthoron. He ran away...!" "Man dôr?"-"Wither to?" "Ú-iston."-"I don't know." "Enni togtha den."-"Bring him to me," but literally "To me you will bring him."  
  
IN CHAPTER EIGHT:  
  
"Maethien firn!"-"Maethien is dead!" "Na man?"-"By what?" or "how?" "Dangen... na yrch o Dol Guldur."-"Slain... by orcs of Dol Guldur (It's a place you ought to know about by now...)"  
  
That's all I'm giving out to you free-loaders! Figure out the rest yourselves. I looked in Ardalambion for grammar and the Sindarin Dictionary for words. All of the conjugations are thought to be correct, and most of the sentence structures (from lessons on TOR.n, theonering.net) are correct. You can check in the aforementioned places to see what it means, because I can trust that no Tolkienite will stumble upon this little fic and criticize it to death (thank Ilúvatar, huh?). However, since I've tweaked phrases from their literal meaning, I don't suggest that you use parts of these sentences and expect them to be the correct word. If you are going to use them, using them in whole is a better idea.  
  
Thanks for reading thus far, and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! I'll love you eternally! O, and I'll give you... eh... I don't have any money, so can I pay you in peaches? (Heh heh, Tikis... get it? Though I don't know why I'd be giving it to reviewers when I could use it myself... ^^;; )  
  
~Trickssi 


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